


Two Different Men

by cheryl123sing



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheryl123sing/pseuds/cheryl123sing
Summary: Kent loves Chandler, but it's nothing compared to the way Emerson loves his Joe.
Relationships: Joseph Chandler & Emerson Kent, Joseph Chandler/Emerson Kent
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	Two Different Men

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there. I've loved Whitechapel forever, but recently I've been watching it a lot again, so here we are!

He’d been on duty for 47 hours. It was a hazard of the job, and one that hadn’t really bothered Kent in the past. He’d always been ambitious, anxious to please. It was a lesson his mother had instilled in him in childhood. Work hard, make an impression, be dependable, and you will go far in life. Kent had lived by these words. He had put his career first, ahead of youth, ahead of fun, ahead of dating. While his flat mates had been pubbing, Kent had been offering to put in overtime. He had made DC at a young age, and had been proud of his accomplishments. He still was proud, but at some point, his focus had shifted slightly. Everything had changed a year ago. 

Now, after 47 hours of overtime working on an intense string of murders, Kent missed his husband terribly. This still struck him as an odd feeling. Strictly speaking, he’d been with Joe all along. This was another on a long list of cases in which they’d contributed together. They two were a family, albeit a tiny one. They had no children, no nieces or nephews, not even pets. Their work was their combined accomplishment. The thing on which they’d look back in old age with a sense of pride. 

But being together at work was not the same as being together in their private life. Kent loved DI Chandler, loved his drive, his ambition, his passion for justice. He loved the care Chandler harbored for each and every victim. His emotional investment was obvious in the small ways Chandler’s mannerisms changed when they were involved in something big. The way his beautiful hands arranged the items on his desk, and reached for his small jar of Tiger Balm whenever everything became too much. The way he sneaked off to the gents when he thought nobody was paying attention, and emerged sometime later wearing a different shirt. The way he would forget to eat, until Kent would sneak a snack and a cup of tea onto his desk. 

It was during these rough cases that Kent missed Joe. Not DI Chandler, but Joe. The Joe who existed during their private time. The one who smiled easily, a private smile just for Emerson. A smile the others rarely were lucky enough to see. He missed Joe, who would take Emerson’s hand and entwine their fingers together as they walked the streets of London together. Joe, his husband, who laughed at Emerson’s jokes, especially when they weren’t particularly funny. He missed the man who would lounge on the couch with him and gently squeeze his bum while they watched whatever Emerson put on TV without complaint, even though he was rarely interested in watching anything. He missed Joe, whose body molded itself along Emerson’s back as they spooned in bed each night, exhausted and gasping and desperately connected, emotionally. 

Above all else, Emerson missed the gentle press of his husband’s lips. Joe had been so reserved at the beginning of their relationship. Hesitant. Inexperienced. Emerson had found it endearing how the simple act of kissing would make Joe blush. He loved the flush that would creep from beneath the collar of Joe’s shirt and spread to his cheeks. The way he averted his eyes. The shy smile that graced his lips. But as much as Emerson loved this about Joe, nothing could compare to the absolute delight Emerson felt when Joe started feeling more comfortable with his affection. It thrilled Emerson every time his husband would catch his hand unexpectedly, when Emerson was engaged in some splendidly domestic task around the house, and pull him into a kiss. 

Yes, Emerson loved DI Chandler, but nothing could compare to the adoration, the wild abandon he felt for his husband, Joe. The man who kept a professional distance at work. The Joe who disappeared somewhere during the journey to Whitechapel station each morning and never reappeared until they left the incident room at the end of each day. And while Kent understood his husband’s need to maintain the divide at work, to create a clear distinction between boss and subordinate, whenever a case became especially intense and work was required for days on end, DC Kent felt a pang. He missed his husband, his Joe. 

The incident room doors swung open and in strode DI Chandler. Miles shook his hand, and Chandler smiled, patted Miles on the shoulder. It was another job well done. Chandler and Kent would likely pop into the pub for a drink with the team before going home, it was something of a tradition at this point. But Kent wouldn’t want to stay long. He was anxious to get home to his Joe. 

Chandler’s long strides carried him towards his office. But first, he stopped directly in front of where Kent stood. Chandler paused for a moment. Then, his hands rose and settled on Emerson’s hips, before his arms moved to close around his waist and pull him close. Emerson froze. 

Joe's eyes met his, then his head dipped to catch Emerson’s lips in a firm kiss. An intake of breath through his nose, and a small sigh escaped Joe’s throat. After several moments, Emerson relaxed into his husband’s embrace and kissed back as his stomach filled with butterflies he hadn’t felt quite so intensely since the early days of their relationship. Joe lifted his head and gazed into his husband’s eyes. 

“What was that for?” Emerson asked, stunned. 

Joe smiled at him, brightly. That secret smile. The special one that nobody else ever got to see. The one meant just for Emerson. “I love you,” he said. His head dipped again for one more soft kiss, then he released Emerson and walked to his office, closing the door quietly behind him. He had a little bit of paperwork to do, as was usual for the end of a case, but soon DI Chandler would be put to bed, and Joe would be back full time for a while. 

Emerson stared after him, oblivious to the attention they’d drawn from the rest of the team. “I love you too,” he said to the closed door.


End file.
